RED DWARF Series II Episode 6,
"Parallel Universe"
1 Int. A stage.
CAT,
LISTER, and RIMMER are dressed in pink suits with frills on a stage.
RIMMER's
"H" is jewel-studded. Behind
them on some scaffolding are girls
in black and white dresses. CAT starts to sing. During the ensuing
dance, HOLLY appears
on screen in a variety of style-less wigs.
The CAT: (Chorus -- LISTER and
RIMMER:)
When I saw
you for the first time (first
time)
My knees began to quiver (quiver)
And I got a funny feeling (feeling)
In my kidneys and my liver (digestive system
baby)
My hands they
started shakin'
(shakin')
My heart
began a-thumpin' (boom
boom boom)
My breakfast left
my body (huey huey
huey)
It all really tells me
something
Girl you
make me tongue tied
(tongue tied)
Tongue
tied, whenever you are near me
(near me)
Tied
tongue
(tied tongue)
Tied
tongue
(tied tongue)
Whenever you're in town
I saw you on the dance floor (dancin')
I thought of birds and bees (reproductive system baby)
I barely tried to speak to ya (talk talk)
My tongue unraveled to my knees (flippety-flippety-thump)
I tried to say I love you (love you)
But it came out kind of wrong girl (wrong girl)
It sounded like min-oo-bitty-boo (tongue tied)
Na-nee-ner-ner-nee-nung, nirl
'Cause you make me tongue tied (tongue tied)
Tongue tied, whenever you are near
me
Be-dobby-durgle
(dobby-durgle)
Tongue
tied
(tongue tied)
Whenever you're around
Oh I'm beggin' on my knees
Sweet, sweet darling, listen
please
Understand me when I
saaaaaay
(Lister grabs
himself on this high note.)
Bedurble-diggle-doggle-dooby-doggle-durgle-day
I'm trying to say nungy-nangy (nangy-nungy)
Ningy-nongy, but I can't tell you
clearly (clearly)
Be-dobby-durgle
(dobby-durgle)
Durgle-dobby (durble-dobby)
Whenever you're around (around)
Whenever you're around (around)
2
Int. Sleeping quarters.
CAT is sitting at a machine that looks a bit
like a microscope (a dream
viewer) LISTER is on his bunk and RIMMER is on
an exercise bike.
RIMMER's bike has a large H on it. CAT's song and dance number can be
heard
playing on the dream recorder.
CAT: No, this isn't the one.
LISTER:
What isn't?
CAT: I'm looking for this dream I had last month on the dream
recorder.
It was
sensational.
LISTER: What was it about?
CAT: Me, three girls and a
family-sized tub of banana yoghurt!
RIMMER: You know, cats have a very
strange attitude to women if you ask
me.
CAT: Say what, Goalpost Head?
RIMMER: It's all sex, and no
sense of settling down and having a long-
term relationship.
CAT: Hey, I want to settle down. And as soon as I find the right small
group of girls, the seven or eight women who
are right for me, my
wandering
days are over, buddy.
CAT leaves the room.
RIMMER: You
see? Totally maladjusted.
LISTER:
That's rich, you know. I mean, coming
from the man who's
favourite book
is "How To Pick Up Girls By Hypnosis."
RIMMER: There's nothing
wrong with that, Lister. It's a good
book. Full
of handy hints as well, and it works.
LISTER:
Get outta town.
RIMMER gets off the bike.
RIMMER: That's
how I met Lorraine -- by hypnotising her.
LISTER: You hypnotised a girl
into going out with you?
RIMMER: Yes.
I gave her the old "there's something in your eye"
technique, fixed her with a mesma-stare, and
bingo -- she agreed to
come on a
date.
LISTER: What was wrong with her?
RIMMER: Nothing.
LISTER:
C'mon, a girl agrees to go out with you, and there was nothing
wrong with her?
RIMMER: She was an
extrememly attractive and bright young lady.
LISTER: Hmm, it must work
then.
RIMMER: Of course, she had an artificial nose.
LISTER:
What!?
RIMMER: Oh, tastefully done.
Quality metal. No rivets.
LISTER:
Come on, what happened?
RIMMER: Well, things were a little bit stilted in
the taxi. All my jokes
about her nose hadn't gone down too well. And they were good gags -- I
mean quality gags like, "Where are we
going? Who nose." No cheap
shots.
Anyway, when we got to the restaraunt she must have had an
attack of nerves or something. She said she was going to the loo and
ended up climbing out of the toilet
window.
LISTER: I wonder why.
RIMMER: It's not 'cos she didn't want
to see me, Lister. She phoned the
next day and said how much she'd LOVE to
come on another date with me,
only suddenly she had to move to Pluto.
LISTER: You're a sad weasel
of a man, you know that, Rimmer?
RIMMER: No, it's just that I'm ill at
ease with the opposite sex.
LISTER: It's because you see them as some
alien species that needs to be
conquered with trickery. They're
not -- they're people. You don't
need your book on hypnosis and, and...
what's the other one? "1001
Fabulous Chat-up Lines."
RIMMER:
Lister, I _do_ need that. It's
brilliant. Those chat-up lines
are guaranteed.
LISTER: There's no such
thing.
RIMMER: Alright. You be a
woman. On your own in a bar, short
leather
miniskirt, peephole
bra.
LISTER: OK. Go on.
RIMMER:
Now this is the most incredible chat-up line you've ever heard in
your life.
Guaranteed.
LISTER: Go on.
RIMMER: OK, in a bar, on you
own. (Pauses as he works up nerve.)
Excuse
me, would you like to join
me for a cocktail?
LISTER: No.
RIMMER: You can't say "no."
It doesn't work when you say "no." You've got
to say "yes."
LISTER: Oh,
right. Okay. Go on, go on.
RIMMER: So, would you like a wormdo?
LISTER:
What's that, then?
RIMMER: What's what?
LISTER: A wormdo.
RIMMER:
What about it?
LISTER: Is this still the opening line?
RIMMER: But
you're not giving me the right replies!
LISTER: What is the right
reply?
RIMMER: I come up to you and say, "Excuse me, would you like
to join me
in a cocktail?"
You say, "Yes." I say, "Would you like a wormdo?" You
say, "What's a wormdo?" And I
say...
LISTER: "Oh, it wriggles along the ground like
that."
RIMMER: You know it!
LISTER: Rimmer, you could not pull a
rotten tooth out of a dead horse's
head with that one.
HOLLY appears on a monitor screen.
HOLLY:
Eureka. I've done it.
LISTER: Done
what?
HOLLY: The Earl of Sandwich invented the sandwich, Samuel Morse
invented
the Morse Code, Plato
invented the plate, and now I, Holly, have
invented the Holly Hop Drive.
RIMMER: Ooh, I can't wait to
see it.
HOLLY: It's monumental, this.
It's epoch-making. The Holly Hop
Drive
can transfer any object
instantly to any other point in space.
LISTER: What? You mean we can go back to Earth?
HOLLY:
In a matter of seconds.
LISTER: What, you mean we can go back to Earth,
like, right now? This
instant?
HOLLY: Right on.
LISTER:
Rock and roll!
3 Int. Drive room.
LISTER and RIMMER view
HOLLY's creation -- a small box.
LISTER: Is this it?
He
holds up the HOLLY Hop Drive.
HOLLY: What do you think?
LISTER:
It's just a box with "STOP" and "START" on it!
HOLLY:
It's fairly straightforward. If you
want to start it you press
"START," and you can work out the rest of the controls for
yourself.
RIMMER: It's absolutely pathetic.
HOLLY: Right. Let's Holly Hop. Engage drive... drive engaged.
Initiating ignition sequence... ignition sequence
initiated.
RIMMER: Get on with it.
HOLLY: It takes time, this. One slight error in any of my thirteen
billion calculations and we'll be blasted to
smithereens. Here we go,
then:
10, 9, 8, 6, 5--
RIMMER: You missed out the seven.
HOLLY: Did
I? I've always had a bit of a blind
spot with sevens.
RIMMER: (Sotto voce) We're going to die.
HOLLY: No
problem. I'll start lower down. 1, blast off.
LISTER thumps the
"START" button on the HOLLY Hop Drive.
4 Ext. Red
Dwarf.
Suddenly it vanishes in a flash of white light.
5
Int. Drive room.
HOLLY: We've done it. We're home.
RIMMER: It worked?
LISTER: We're at
Earth? You must be joking!
HOLLY:
Half a mo'.
He vanishes from the monitor, and returns almost
immediately.
HOLLY: It's gone.
CAT: What has?
HOLLY: The
Earth. It's missing. It's not there. Wait a minute --
sorry, I was looking out of the wrong window.
He goes for
another look.
HOLLY: No, no, it has gone. The entire Solar System is missing.
RIMMER: Well, what is
actually out there?
HOLLY: Nothing.
Just space.
RIMMER: Holly, the thought occurs that we haven't
actually reached Earth.
The
further thought occurs that we haven't actually budged a smegging
inch.
HOLLY: No, no, we have. It's just I don't know where we are. I've got
to admit it, I've flamingoed-up.
RIMMER: What?
HOLLY:
It's like a cock-up, only much, much bigger.
(Pause) Wait, there
is
something there. It's another
ship.
RIMMER: Aliens!
LISTER: Punch it up.
HOLLY: It looks like
an exact copy of Red Dwarf.
LISTER: Eh?
So what's happened?
HOLLY: Somehow, don't ask me how, we've jumped
into a Parallel Universe.
We've
entered the fifth dimension.
RIMMER: What's the fifth dimension?
LISTER:
Didn't they get to Number Six with that "Baby I Want Your Love
Thing?"
HOLLY: You've got your
basic dimensions, right, length, breadth, depth
and time. The fifth
dimension is co-existing realities, two bodies who
share the same space but are unaware of each
other's existence.
RIMMER: Sounds like my parents in bed.
LISTER: So
hang on. This is another Red Dwarf,
with another Rimmer and
Lister on
board?
RIMMER: Will they be be exactly the same as us?
HOLLY: No,
there will be differences. This is
parallel universe, innit?
RIMMER: What do you mean?
HOLLY: Well, for
instance, in this universe, it could be that Hitler won
the Second World War. It could be something even more incredible,
like
perhaps Ringo was a really
_good_ drummer. Hang on, I'm linking
up
with their on-board
computer.
A second face appears beside HOLLY's. The shape of the face is much the
same,
but with one important difference -- it is female.
HILLY: Hello, I'm
Hilly.
HOLLY: Hello, I'm Holly.
HILLY: Hello, Holly.
HOLLY:
Hello, Hilly.
HILLY: Well, this is a turn-up, innit? You'd better boogie on over and
we can sort it out.
HOLLY: Right on,
sis.
HILLY: See you, Hol.
HOLLY: See you, Hil.
HILLY's
face disappears.
HOLLY: I'm in there.
6 Ext. Blue
Midget.
The guys boogie on over in Blue Midget.
7 Int.
Docking bay. Other Red Dwarf.
RIMMER steps through the airlock,
followed by a skutter, then CAT and
finally LISTER.
RIMMER:
It's identical in every detail to our Red Dwarf!
CAT: Very funny smell
around here that I don't like one bit.
(To LISTER)
It smells like
your moon-boots, man. I'm going to get
rid of it.
He pulls out two cans of CAT scent-marking. He moves off down the
corridor,
spraying.
CAT: That's mine, this is mine...
LISTER: So where
are the other Rimmer and Lister, then?
They head for the door to the
main corridor. It opens as they reach
it,
revealing... a female LISTER and RIMMER. They look pretty surprised.
DAVE hits a door control
panel, while ARNOLD looks down the corridor.
He
doesn't realise that the females are there until ARLENE
speaks.
ARLENE: So, you're not aliens.
She walks over to
ARNOLD, while DEBBIE walks over to her male
counterpart.
DAVE:
Hi.
DEBBIE: Hi.
ARNOLD and ARLENE give one another a
Full-Rimmer Salute.
ARLENE: How do you do?
ARNOLD: How do you
do?
DAVE: So you must be Lister?
DEBBIE: And you are too.
LISTER:
I hope so.
ARLENE: You must be Rimmer.
So am I.
ARNOLD: Splendid.
DEBBIE: Deb.
DAVE: Dave.
ARNOLD:
Arnold.
ARLENE: Arlene.
ARNOLD: Indeedy.
The skutter hums
past, on it's way to explore the ship.
It passes a
female skutter, who stops, optical sensor wide, then
wheels off in
pursuit.
8 Int. Sleeping Quarters. Other Red
Dwarf.
DAVE and DEBBIE enter, passing the fridge.
DAVE:
So, you come from a universe which is exactly the same as ours?
(Gesturing toward the fridge) Can I?
DEBBIE:
Yeah.
DAVE takes two cans of Leopard Lager out of the fridge and
hands one to
DEBBIE. Worth noting
the posters inside the fridge.
DAVE: --only everything's ...
opposite?
DEBBIE: Oh, I don't know if everything's opposite. It seems like that.
DAVE: So you come
from a female-orientated society?
DEBBIE: Well, it's not exactly
female-orientated anymore, not since the
sixties. You know, the
equal-rights-for-men marches. You know,
they
burned their jockstraps and
all that.
DAVE: Stop!
DEBBIE: Haven't you read "The Male
Eunuch" by Jeremy Greer?
DAVE: So, your history is parallel to ours
as well? So, hang on... erm,
who was the first person on the moon?
DEBBIE:
Nellie Armstrong.
LISTER: NELLIE Armstrong? So... who wrote Hamlet?
ARLENE: (Entering with ARNOLD) Will
Shakespeare.
DAVE: Ah, so he was a bloke.
DEBBIE: No, she was a
woman. Wilma Shakespeare.
ARLENE:
Yeah, she wrote all the greats:
"Racheal the Third," "The Taming
of the Shrimp."
ARNOLD: (Examing
the table) My god, what's this?
ARLENE: Oh, "Camera Monthly"
magazine.
ARNOLD: But, it's disgusting!
It's full of semi-naked blokes draping
themselves over sports cars.
ARLENE: What's wrong with
that? You're not one of those
boring
masculinists, are
you?
DAVE: So, sexual attitudes are opposite as well?
ARLENE: (To
LISTER) What was that, my little cupcake?
DAVE: Your little what??
ARNOLD:
But, it just looks ridiculous! I mean,
these models are
deformed! Hugely deformed. It makes one feel quite... inadequate.
He tries
nonchalantly to cover himself with his hands.
ARLENE: I wouldn't
worry about that, my pretty. (She
gropes his bum.)
DEBBIE: Hey, the holograms can touch each other!
CAT
enters at a fast smooch.
CAT: Hey, hey, hey, hey! I hate to break up the party, but is
there
somebody missing?
DEBBIE:
How do you mean?
CAT: Well.
(Pointing to DEBBIE) Lister, female opposite. (Pointing to
ARLENE) Rimmer, female opposite.
Where's mine?
DEBBIE: Oh, right.
Mooching around on the Cargo Decks, I think.
CAT: Wow! All my life I've waited for this moment, and
now it has
arrived! Hey, listen, if you hear me screaming, do
not -- I repeat, do
not -- come
to the rescue! Whaaaaaoooooooow! (Running from the room,
singing) I'm gonna get you, little
kitty...
DEBBIE: I think he's in for a bit of a shock.
DAVE:
Why?
DEBBIE: His opposite isn't female.
DAVE: What is it?
DEBBIE:
It's a dog.
9 Int. Cargo deck.
We see the aforementioned
dog. He's hairy, dirty and slobby,
wearing a
t-shirt with "DOG MARKET" written on it (probably of
religious
significance). He is
wearing a baseball glove and tossing a ball into
it. Like CAT, he speaks with an American
dialect, but a different one --
Generic Hillbilly.
DOG: Boy, oh
boy, Where'd they go? I get so danged
panicky when they go
off and
leave me on muh own like this! (He
scratches behind one ear.)
Damn
these fleas!
Looking around to be sure no-one is watching, he quickly
eats it.
Enter CAT, humming a happy little cat-tune.
CAT:
Dum-de-dee, I'm gonna get you, little kitty, I'm gonna get you...
He
stops dead when he sees DOG, and goes white with shock.
CAT: I don't
know what that is, but I'm sure he wants to eat me.
DOG: Well, trash mah
shorts, what a funny-looking dog!
CAT: I'd better make myself look
big! (He raises his arms and
snarls.)
DOG: Put it there, Buddy, put it right there!
CAT, who
was unfortunate enough to be inches away from DOG when he spoke,
goes reeling
backwards, hand over nose.
CAT: Nyah! Argh! What kind of
toothpaste does he use?! Rotting meat
flavour?
DOG: Oh, come on now.
I wanna be your buddy! Tell you
what -- I'm gonna
smell your
behind, and you can smell mine! Now, is
that a deal?
CAT: You wanna smell my WHAT!?
DOG: Why sure! Don't you wanna smell me?
CAT: Man, I
could smell you if you was on Mars!
When was the last time
you
took a bath?
DOG: Oh please, don't say that word!
CAT: What,
bath?
DOG: You said it again! Now
listen up: if y'all gonna say that word
in
front of me, please spell
it.
CAT: When was the last time you took a B - A - T - H.
DOG: What's
that?
DAVE enters.
DAVE: Yo, Cat. (To DOG) There you are. C'mon, errm, we're going to the
disco.
CAT: What?
DAVE: Yeah,
Holly says it's gonna take seventeen hours to repair the Hop
Drive.
He sniffs the air in DOG's
direction, looking a little disgusted.
DAVE: So I thought we'd, you
know, go and have a few...
slaps his face as a flea hops on
him
CAT: Alright, let's go!
Yeah, yeah, yeah! Come on!
DOG
says nothing. He just scratches himself
some more before following.
Before that, when DAVE passes him, he sniffs
again and looks even more
disgusted.
10 Int. Disco.
DAVE
and DEBBIE are dancing, popping cans of lager.
CAT and DOG are off
to one side, and the two goalpost-heads are in
the bar.
DAVE and DEBBIE are drinking from mugs. The mugs are on the floor at
first, but
they pick them up as part of their dance, drink, then spit
straight up
before wiping their mouths.
11 Int. Disco bar.
ARNOLD:
Well, they seem to be getting on, don't they?
ARLENE: Yes. Absolutely.
ARNOLD: Oh, yes.
ARLENE:
Like a house on fire.
ARNOLD: You can say that again.
ARLENE: Oh,
yes.
There is an uncomfortable pause.
ARLENE: Mind you,
we've got a pretty good conversation going on here.
ARNOLD: Oh, yes,
yes.
ARLENE: Absolutely.
ARNOLD: Funny, really. I'm not normally good at talking to the
opposite
sex.
ARLENE: No,
I'm not. I run out of things to
say.
There is another long pause.
ARNOLD: Me, too.
Another
long pause.
ARNOLD: So, you're a girl, then?
ARLENE: Yes.
ARNOLD:
That's nice.
ARLENE: Hang on -- haven't you got something in your
eye?
ARNOLD almost falls for it, then realises with dawning horror
what is
happening.
ARNOLD: (Breaking eye contact) You're trying
to hypnotise me, aren't you?
ARLENE: No, of course not.
ARNOLD: Well,
stop staring, then.
ARLENE: I'm not staring.
ARNOLD: Yes you
are.
ARLENE: Okay, I read it in this book. It's great for picking up bits of
tottie.
ARNOLD: Well, I'd hardly describe myself as a bit of
"tottie."
ARLENE gets up and swaggers over to RIMMER. She leans over him.
ARLENE: Ohhh,
yes. Tottie, tottie, tottie.
ARNOLD:
I think you've had rather too much to drink.
I always get like
this
when I'm tanked up.
ARLENE: C'mon, you're interested.
ARNOLD: I
assure you, I'm not.
ARLENE: Why are you giving me all the signs,
then?
ARNOLD: What signs?
ARLENE: Wearing such tight-fit
trousers? (So saying, she gropes
his
goolies.)
ARNOLD:
They're not tight.
ARLENE: Of course they are. You're begging for it.
ARNOLD: I'm not "tottie,"
and I'm not begging for anything!
ARLENE: C'mon, give us a snog! I promise I won't try and take off
your
underpants.
ARNOLD:
Look, I'm sorry, I'm just not that kind of g-- boy.
ARLENE,
disappointed, goes back to her own seat.
She points at RIMMER
and says, loudly, to the room at large:
ARLENE:
Frigid!
ARNOLD: You're disgusting!
You're only after me for one thing!
ARLENE: Why? How many have you got?
12 Int.
Disco -- The pets.
The CAT and DOG are talking.
CAT:
You're a great conversationalist, you know that?
DOG: I am, but I ain't
said nothing yet.
He's eating from an enormous bone as he
speaks.
CAT: Yeah, that's what I like best.
DAVE passes
through.
DAVE: Yo, I'm going down the bar. You want anything?
CAT: Yeah, I'll have a grenade, thank
you.
DAVE: A grenade?
CAT: Yeah.
I'm gonna play fetch with the Dog.
13 Int. Disco bar.
ARNOLD
is pressed in his seat, looking like someone meeting his worst
nightmare
and finding out it's himself. ARLENE is
bent over him, trying
to get her tongue in his ear. She looks horny and pished. Enter LISTER,
with two empty
glasses.
ARNOLD: Listy! How
are you me old mate, come and join us, please, god,
come and join us!
ARLENE,
interrupted, decides to take a break.
ARLENE: I won't be long.
She
leaves, but not without a final squeeze of RIMMER's breast, and a
word of
advice to DAVE.
ARLENE: If you want to keep your beer cool, stick it
between his legs.
DAVE: What was all that about?
ARNOLD: That is the
most awful woman I've ever met.
DAVE: She's you.
ARNOLD: She's
absolutely repugnant. She doesn't treat
me like I'm a
normal human beiong
at all, she seems to regard me as some sort of
discardable sex object.
DAVE: She's the female equivalent of
you.
ARNOLD: Nonsense. She's
maladjusted. Trust my luck to wind up
with El
Weirdo while you trap off
with the one with the juicy jugs.
DAVE: See! She thinks of men the exact same way you think of women.
It's disgusting.
ARNOLD: She accused me
of wiggling my bottom in a provocative way!
I was
just walking! Can I help it if I happen to be sexy? What's the other
one like?
DAVE: Totally gross. She's unbelievable. She tried to impress me by
drinking six pints of Lager then belching
the whole of "Yankee Doodle
Dandy."
ARNOLD: That's your party piece, isn't it?
DAVE:
Yeah, but when I do it, it's really stylish, man. (He burps what
might be the first bar of that song.) Class.
ARNOLD: Do you think
that you'll, ehm, (He wiggles his eyebrows
significantly.)
DAVE: Get outta town! I mean, she's a good laugh and all that, but
all
she wants to do is get
completely blitzed out of her brains and eat
vindaloos. I mean, call
me crazy, but I just don't find that
attractive.
14 Int. Disco -- The gals.
DEBBIE: How
are you getting on, then?
ARLENE: Well, put it this way, there'll be two
pairs of shoes under the
bed
tonight. (She makes a pumping gesture.)
Wallop!
DEBBIE: He doesn't look too interested to me. He looks more like sort
of, erm, petrified.
ARLENE: Oh, he
doesn't want me to think he's the ship bike, but I'm
getting the signs. He crossed his legs, and made pretty damn sure I
saw that he was wearing sock
suspenders.
She makes a quite approving noise.
DEBBIE:
Rimmer, he's not interested.
ARLENE: Maybe not now, but wait till I give
him the wormdo line.
15 Int. Disco -- The pets.
Back to
the Highly Evolved Household Pets' Convention.
DOG: You want to
dance? Boy, I tell you, when I hit the
dance floor, I
am one _mean_
turkey! Do you dance?
CAT: Do I
dance? Does Carmen Miranda wear
fruit?
DOG: Alrighty! You lead on,
boy.
CAT: (Handing him a glass of milk) Hold this, Fido.
CAT
steps out onto the dance floor. He
jives. He twists. He boogies.
He moonwalks. He twirls.
At one point he grabs a disco light and hangs
from it for several
seconds. Dance finished, he reclaims
his drink.
DOG: You call that dancing? No way, Jose. This is
dancing!
DOG, by contrast, has all the grace of a ballerina with
elephantitis, and
all the stylistic sense of the Bee Gees. He pumps his arms up and down a
few
times while shuffling his feet, then lets out a wolf-like howl.
DOG:
Well, whadya say, huh?
CAT is stunned speechless.
16 Int.
Disco bar.
Meanwhile, DEBBIE and DAVE are having a lager-chugging
competition in the
bar.
DAVE: Aw, it was a dead heat.
DEBBIE:
Again. That's eight dead heats on the
run.
ARNOLD scuttles up to their table.
ARNOLD: Listy, I
want to speak to Holly.
DAVE: Sure.
HOLLY, you might remember,
has set up a communications link on DAVE's
watch. DAVE shows the watch to ARNOLD.
ARNOLD:
Holly, how long before the Hop Drive's fixed?
When can we get
out of
here?
HOLLY and HILLY appear on the screen together. There is a suspicious red
mark on
HOLLY's cheek.
HOLLY: We're busy fixing it right now. Aren't we, Hilly?
HILLY: Yes, we are,
Holly. Very busy fixing it right
now. That's
exactly what we're doing.
DAVE: What's
that mark on your face, Hol?
HOLLY: What face?
DAVE: The lipstick
mark.
HILLY: That's not a lipstick mark.
That's a computer rash.
ARNOLD: Holly, just get the Hop Drive fixed
and get me out of here!
DEBBIE: What's the matter? Aren't you having a good time?
ARNOLD:
A good time!?! Lister, I'm going to bed now, by myself, on my
own, alone.
If she comes back, tell her I've got a headache or
something.
DAVE: Why, where's she
gone?
ARNOLD: She's gone to get some sexy videos. She seems to think seeing
two men together might turn me on.
DAVE:
Where are you sleeping?
ARNOLD: I'm not telling you. It's too risky.
DAVE: C'mon, what are
you, a man or a munchkin?
ARNOLD: "I'm off to see the wizard, the
wonderful wizard of Oz!"
He scuttles off. With a shake of his head, DAVE turns back to
more
important matters: the
lager-tossing contest.
DAVE: (To DEBBIE) Ho, you ready then? OK, after three. Three!
As DEBBIE splutters on her lager, DAVE tosses
his over his shoulder.
DAVE: Hah!
Beat you!
DEBBIE gets revenge by spitting lager all over
him.
17 Int. Sleeping quarters. Original Red Dwarf.
DAVE
wakes up, takes his thumb out of his mouth, and takes stock of his
situation.
DAVE:
Oh, did I get drunk or did I get drunk?
He notices the
un-pillow-like texture of the thing under the sheets. He
pulls back the covers, to find himself staring at
DEBBIE's size nine
tootsies.
DAVE: Oh, no.
Meanwhile,
at the other end of the bed.
DEBBIE: Oh, did I get drunk or did I
get drunk?
She looks down the bed... at DAVE.
DAVE:
Hi.
DEBBIE: Hi.
DAVE: Listen, did we, ehm...
DEBBIE: I can't
remember.
DAVE: I remember betting you I could climb the disco wall using
only me
lips. And then... Oh, god, I juggled the goldfish,
didn't I?
DEBBIE: Blindfold.
DAVE: And then... Oh, hey, we did,
didn't we?
The two holograms enter, looking rather smug.
ARNOLD:
You pieces of filth. How could you
commit an act of carnal
knowledge?
ARLENE: In my bunk?
On my sheets, using my springs.
What could possibly
have
made you contemplate making love to yourself?
ARNOLD: Well, why break a
habit of a lifetime?
DEBBIE: Leave it out, I was gonzo. I was out of me skull.
DAVE: Oh, ey,
what's that's supposed to mean?
DEBBIE: Well, I wouldn't have slept with
you if I'd known what I was
doing.
DAVE: Oh, hey, thanks a lot.
ARLENE: I hope you get
pregnant.
She's looking in the mirror when she says this; it is
uncertain to whom
she is speaking.
DEBBIE: No offence, but
you're not exactly Mr.
Difficult-to-pull, are
you? Talk about a
pushover!
DAVE: Oh that's rich coming from Miss Yo-yo knickers.
ARLENE:
(To DAVE) I hope you get pregnant, you cheap little tart!
DAVE: You
what?
ARNOLD: Him? How can he get
pregnant?
ARLENE: Well, If they didn't use precautions, he could be up the
spout.
DAVE: But it's women who get pregnant!
DEBBIE: Since
when?
DAVE: Since always! Me
mother was a woman!
ARNOLD: Oh, Listy!
Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.
If I'm
understanding
correctly, it appear that, in their universe, it's the
men who give birth to the babies. And as we are in their universe, you
could very well be possibly up the duff,
laddie!
DAVE: C'mon, I'm not buying this!
This is a wind-up!
ARNOLD: Don't get emotional -- not in your
conditition!
DAVE: It's impossible!
I haven't got the, the... equipment, have I?
ARLENE: Of course you
have. You're in our universe. Our physical law
applies.
DAVE: Shut up. Holly, tell me this isn't true.
HOLLY
appears on the screen. His face is
covered in lipstick marks.
HOLLY: I'm afraid it is, Mum.
DAVE
turns to DEBBIE.
DAVE: How could you do this to me?
DEBBIE: Do
what?
DAVE: Fertilise me. Take
advantage of me. Knowing that I was
drunk and
didn't have
precautions.
DEBBIE: Listen, I assumed you'd taken care of that side of
things. It's
the man's responsibility. It's the man who get's pregnant. It's the
man who has to suffer the agony of childbirth.
ARNOLD:
Agony! This gets better and
better!
DEBBIE: Well, what do you want me to do? I'm sorry, okay?
DAVE: Sorry? That's it? Sorry? Wham, bang, thank you mister?
HILLY:
Well, there's no point standing around arguing about it. If it's
happened, it's happened.
HOLLY: Yeah, we'd better get
back. I've fixed the Hop Drive.
DAVE:
No, we can't go now, Hol. She could be
the father of my child.
HOLLY: If we don't go now, we may never get back
at all.
DEBBIE: Listen, just because it's possible for you to get
pregnant, it
doesn't mean you
necessarily are. You might get
lucky! (Pats him on
the back.)
The skutter enters,
followed by the female skutter, followed by three
baby skutters. It holds a fourth in his `mouth'.
ARNOLD:
But then again, you might not. We'll
find out when we get back,
won't
we, Listy?
18 Ext. Red Dwarf.
HOLLY: (VO) Engaging Holly
Hop... Holly Hop engaged. 4, 3, 1 --
Blast
off.
With a
flash of light, the HHD engages, sending Red Dwarf back to its own
universe.
19
Int. Science lab.
On the bench is a pregnancy testing kit. LISTER is pacing, RIMMER and
CAT are
standing at the bench.
LISTER: I don't know why we're going through
with this. It's just not
possible!
RIMMER: Why is it not
possible? Male baboons have given birth
-- they
were doing that as far
back as the twentieth century.
Cesarean,
naturally. (He mimes the operation.) Slice! Oof!
Bumf! Still,
Lister, you'll be in good hands, and the
skutters will be able to
handle a
simple Cesarean.
LISTER: Skutters!
I wouldn't let them open a can of beans.
CAT: You're thinking too
negative! Think of all the glorious,
beautiful,
wonderous things about
having children!
LISTER: Like?
CAT: Like when they grow up and leave
home.
RIMMER: What colour is it supposed to turn?
LISTER: Blue for
not pregnant. Which is the colour it is
going to turn.
RIMMER: And red for pregnant?
LISTER: Yeah.
RIMMER:
Come on ye reds!
LISTER: What colour is it now?
CAT: Er, it's still
white.
HOLLY: Oy. I've just had a
thought. Remember when we broke the
light
barrier and saw those
echoes from the future?
LISTER: Yeah.
HOLLY: And we saw your future
self with twin boys.
RIMMER: Right.
And I said, "How is it possible to get two babies without
a woman on board." And you said,
"I don't know, but it's going to be a
lot of fun finding out." How right you were, Listy!
LISTER:
Twins? No way, Rimmer, not twins!
RIMMER:
Oh yes, big bonny strapping bouncing boys they were, as well.
Huge heads.
(Pause) Oh, it's changing colour!
LISTER: What colour?
RIMMER:
Yes, it is! It's changing colour!
LISTER:
What colour?
RIMMER: Yes, it's changing colour!
LISTER: WHAT
COLOUR?!?
RIMMER: It's blue for not pregnant, right?
LISTER:
Yes!
RIMMER: Oh, good news, excellent news, Listy!
LISTER: Oh, thank
god!
RIMMER: I'm going to be an uncle.
The
End